Fly vs. Spy

Normal

Reminiscing about that perfect one.

I had one myself, long ago. A popular guy, involved in all the clubs and sports teams in high school. Tall kid. He liked me, I liked him. He saw me dancing outside in the rain in the parking lot, all ripped jeans and giggles. He came and sat down next to me during the lecture. I felt that prickle of heat on my face. We exchanged notes and long glances, and kissed in the school yard all awkward and adorable. He gave me a piggy back ride on his shoulders across the street to where he lived. Showed me his bedroom where we hung out. He was Christian, so we played nice.

I was living in a group home, after three failed custody placements. I had all sorts of a fucked up life and had determinedly failed every class since fifth grade. I hung out with the 'smoker's club', behind the drama building and across the street at the park. I wanted to be different, not realizing that I already was. I wore heavy metal t-shirts, even though I'd never been to a concert. I was a good kid, a virgin, and never did any drugs. But of course I lied and told everyone I had.

Well, a few weeks later his interest tapered off and then one day I  saw him carrying one of the cheerleaders on his shoulders  across the street.  A quiet brunette who was in my drama class. Popular , but not memorable. If you could 'normalize' me, she'd be what I'd look like.

I was kind of relieved in a way. What would someone like me do with a guy like that? I didn't fit the image, it was only a matter of time before he picked some normal girl with a normal life and normal family anyways. I had to find him on campus during lunch time and go up to him; he'd been ignoring me for a week. It's over, right? Yeah, he said.

Ok. That's what I thought.

A few weeks later, my friend Bill accidentally crashed his car into this cheerleader's mom's car as they were coming to school. He plowed right into the side of her car and almost crushed the girl's leg. She came into class crying and screaming about it. I remember I felt embarrassed. Couldn't my friends even be normal? They had to go around nearly killing people.

I called Bill last night and said...do you remember that girl you hit in high school? The one who ended up with that guy I was dating. He said, yes.

I said...thank you?

"Oh it's nothing, sweetie. I got no problem running over some uppity white bitch for you." 

the world

Something needs to change, and I've decided it's my attitude. It occurred to me today that the reason my life is so difficult right now, is because I never really liked the world. I've been living at the bare minimum, half way participating. I only thought of the world in terms of what it could give me, or take away from me. Otherwise, I ignore the world. I don't want to get to know it.

But all this changed last year in the aftermath of an abrupt spiritual awakening. I came out of it different than when I went in. I find myself without the energy to sustain the shallow feelings I had for my life, like intense outbursts of joy and obnoxiousness, bouts of frustration over mundane things and sometimes even a temporary fascination with people or distracting obsessions.

Now there is no feeling at all. Just emptiness underneath. And every time something bad happens to me, and a feature of my world gets taken away, I hit that grit at the bottom of the bottom of the bottom. It's because I haven't built anything to break my fall or protect me. It's like an empty lot. There was nothing real, no real genuine feeling under all the falseness of my former life.

So, now I have to create a different appreciation for the world. Cultivate enduring feelings for the features of my life, for people, for experiences. I have to change my attitude toward everything until I figure out the right way to touch the world, live in the world, participate in it.

But it's HARD. Because I know that I don't love this place. And if I had the energy to sit around and feel like a victim, I'd do it. But I don't. It's tiring just thinking about inhabiting that frame of mind. I had no idea how much energy it took to be such a rotten person my whole life.

And I know what the bottom feels like, and I know that that is also very REAL. Maybe that knowledge of the abyss will never go away. I will always know that under it all, is vast, dark emptiness. But emptiness can also be a strength if it's used to forge detachment. Right?

Speaking of detachment, I need to study Buddhism this coming year. And I need to start acting like I love this world, even though I don't yet. And one day maybe I'll appreciate it and it will appreciate me back. And I will love the world in a way that can't be toppled by outside events or twists and turns of fortune.

I will certainly keep trying in a real way to undo the damage I did for the last 30 years, and that's the best I can do. If it doesn't work, and I'm wrong about all this, then I'll send you guys a postcard from that abyss. Signed...love, Shannon the Spy.

This is a cautionary tale, by the way. Don't tinker with spiritual awakening at home, kids...

Moleskine

I am already filling in the notes section of the brand new Moleskine 2009 Planner I got for Christmas this year. My New Year plans, dreams and resolutions.

Here goes.

Finish unfinished business. This is a book, and it's either my own book or helping to write someone else's book. But either way, I'm birthing a book this year coming. In the same vein, I need to submit a piece of writing for publication every month. Period. Not during my period. But now that I think of it, that wouldn't be a bad way to track the due dates. I have undeveloped film from Zambia that is two years past its expiration date. Time to edit that into something solid. I also have an heirloom coverlet I'm crocheting that needs to get wrapped up. Then I can wrap myself up in it and sing hallelujah!

Things I need to grow. Art and Writing. A website for the Writer's Roundup LA, writers and artists group that spontaneously formed around me a short while ago. Business cards and post cards for my artwork, online portfolio and at least two gallery shows this year. Get more freelance writing projects, like scripts and ads. The two things I need more experience with.

Learn. Goddamn it if I haven't been telling myself to get the fucking tutorial for InDesign, Photoshop and Final Cut done and out of the way. The three that I learned in school and promptly forgot how to use when I left. I want to learn more about being a director of photography. More about Buddhism. Learn more about my body and the kinds of strange positions I can put myself into during Yoga practice. Painting, which I am not that good at, but would like to master.

Now the fun stuff...projects and adventures. Turn one of my short stories into a comic book and illustrate it myself. Get it published. Involve myself in some film or theater project, ideally something small, independent and fun. Like the 24hr film festival type stuff. Go snowboarding for the first time. Take one random trip somewhere to meet up with someone from my past. Also I haven't been to the Grand Canyon ever, and 2009 might be the year to do it in.

And finally....develop super powers. I'm aiming for levitation and telepathy. I won't need a car or a cell phone. Wouldn't that be great!

Have a happy, productive new year everyone. Back to my Moleskine.

The running joke

It happened again. I bought Bill a bowl of oxtails and some out of this world Pho the day after Christmas. I was all excited; I thought I was going to get away with it this time. That I had finally returned the gesture of generosity. But when we got home I stuck my hand in the pocket of the hoodie Bill lent me that evening...and found some money in there. I said, finders keepers! before it hit me.

Bill smiled. Ok, he said. I held the bills up for him to see. Then he frowned. Dammit! That's the exact same cost of my dinner! What the fuck?! You still didn't buy me dinner!

No matter how hard I try, I can never buy dinner for Bill. This is the running joke with us now. I can buy him chocolate bars and fancy kitchen equipment and chapstick and cover him with hugs and kisses and give him just about anything else I can think of. But not dinner.

I'm getting that feeling again. You know the one. Like there are hidden cameras everywhere...

Food Adventurist

I was reading this article on Steve Pavlina' site tonight and it occurred to me that this man has waaaay more discipline than I do to carry out these dietary experiments. But I applaud his effort, in the name of self development, and it sure makes for good reading.
Raw food experiment by Steve Pavlina.

I've been considering adding some raw foods into my meals these days, which is how I found the article. Perhaps it's because I'm living in California now, and the weather is more conducive to eating salads and such. Or it could just be because it's me, the female version of the "Man Who Ate Everything". And in my quest to experience every inch of the world through my digestive tract, I'd be willing to start using my juicer more often.

They say Capricorns will eat anything set down in front of them, and I feel that's a fairly accurate statement. It's not just that I'll eat anything, it's that I'm not partial to any particular cuisine or diet. I like them all. But especially the weird ones.

In New York I ate like a New Yorker, complete with Gray's Papaya and black and white cookies. When I was living at the Vega institute, I ate miso soups and kale and brown rice like a champion. When I lived in Tokyo I ate blowfish and liked it. I also drank turtle blood, ate sauteed pig's ear, live fish sushi and goat stew. In Italy I lived on espresso and biscotti and soprasatta. In Africa I ate fried chicken gizzards, nshima and greens, and scooped it all up with my fingers. I drank teaspoons of warm clarified butter every morning for an Ayurvedic diet. To this day, that is the only thing I've eaten that I developed an aversion to. Now sometimes the smell of hollandaise sauce makes me gag.

Other than that, true to Capricorn form, I can eat everything. I like brussel sprouts. I like beef tongue,ox tail and turkey necks. I like Tabasco sauce. Chicken's feet. I like notebook paper. My coworker once got me to eat a piece of scotch tape, but I can't say that I liked it.

When my friend and I discovered that inch worm in our salad the other day at the restaurant in Vegas, I didn't say anything, but I had the overwhelming urge to pop it in my mouth. He already looked mortified and nobody could finish their meal except me. I felt bad, so I left the bug alone.

But it makes me think. Another little challenge to add to my list of food adventures not yet had. Exactly how do I work insects into my new raw foods diet?

I heart Raviana

I'm shamelessly promoting these Kundalini Yoga DVD's from Raviana.com because they're fabulous, and because I bought a defective DVD by accident from Amazon and wrote to ask them if they might know why it wasn't playing in my player. They just went ahead and replaced it, no questions asked, even though I didn't buy it directly from them. They could have told me to go contact the seller instead and get a refund or whatever. It arrived in two days. I went back to the site, bought a bunch more and left a nice note for the guy who sent me the replacement.

I'm a very loyal shopper and having worked in sales, I know what good service is and what just-doing-the-bare-minimum customer service is. And that's good service. It's really hard to find that level of classiness from brands these days.

What I'm trying to say is that if you offer a great product and then back it up with impeccable customer service you have my heart forevermore. That's the winning combo.

New Year

So here I am sipping on spicy raw milk hot cocoa, sitting in my makeshift art studio, wondering how to ring in the new year. 2009 is supposed to yield many rewards and the start of a new twelve year cycle for me. This will be an important year. Plus, my birthday is right after New Years, so that makes it an even bigger decision.

Here's the options. I'm invited to run off to Slab City for New Years with some friends. But I'm also invited to a New Years party at a gay couple's house in Beverly Hills.

Which should I choose? High adventure in post apocalyptic desert community... or champagne and fancy appetizers with David and Charles...

I may just toss a coin. Which one do you think I should pick?

Encourage

Sometimes I'm very hard on myself. Maybe for the new year, I should resolve to be more encouraging.  So, here's a start. I submitted my first piece of fiction to a contest this morning. Now that I look over it, I realize there's lots of little flaws in the story and places where it needs better transition. So, I probably won't win. I'm a writer, and I know bad writing, even when it's my own. BUT I submitted something finally. So, I'm very proud of myself. Period.

And I can tell that my writing is getting better. I forget sometimes that I don't really like fiction all that much. I mean, I like reading it, but have always been uncomfortable writing it. It feels like a chore to write. But other people like my fiction. So, maybe one day I'll like my fiction as much as other people like it and then everyone will be happy.

Until then, I get a pat on the back from myself and onto the next venture.

Wish list

I heart lists. Especially wish lists.

This holiday I want:

One drunken, joyful evening spent in the company of my friends.

Freelance writing work

Another gallery show

To get one of my fiction pieces published

An invitation to a Christmas party

A bottle of fine scotch

Someone to say a prayer for me, and mean it

Kitchen gadgets of any kind

Something that surprises me

A gluten-free cookbook

Tickets to a play or a musical or an opera

Art supplies of any kind, especially canvasses and oil paint

Business cards for my art

Inspired

This is what I'm excited about right now.

The stimulating conversation I just had with a handsome, clever young woman. It reminds me of the kinds of people I used to meet in my twenties that I didn't have the sense to hang onto. Here's to interesting friends.

Illustrating Heathervescent's forthcoming book, How to Get Your Heart's  Desire.

Finishing an oil painting inspired by light and shadow. This gets truly underway tomorrow.

New freelance projects to tackle. And having the opportunity to work on something different.

The Writer's Roundup, which is becoming useful and inspiring.

I'm excited that my kitchen is clean. And my bedroom. And my closet.

And I'm excited for the new year. Why not? :)